


Stresses of the Ricktatorship

by Higgystar



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Kink Meme, bad language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 16:33:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1695053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Higgystar/pseuds/Higgystar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kink from the prompt meme: The Ricktatorship starts taking its toll on Rick, and when things become a little too much for him to handle by himself he takes it out on Daryl by shouting at him, expecting the other man to yell back and let him get it all out. Instead Daryl is stunned and doesn't take it quite as well as expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stresses of the Ricktatorship

Daryl is used to the yelling he really is, fuck the screams and shouts of other people could be the soundtrack to his whole fucking life, but this was different.

He’s been trying, he really fucking has been trying his hardest to find them some decent meat to eat, but through the snow sending the critters to hibernate for a while and the chill in the air making it harder to concentrate he hasn’t had any success in a few days. It’s almost a week now and he knows they need the protein to keep going but there’s not much he could do. They’re all hungry, tired and cold, tempers are fraying, the baby is draining Lori more and more each day and fuck he tries so hard for them all and it’s just not enough.

There’s only so much nutrition in canned shit and though it stops their stomachs from grumbling so much it’s not so much a meal as much needed energy to let them take the next step. It difficult to find food, it’s harder to find shelter and it’s getting really fucking tough to keep forcing themselves to take that next step and hope for something better around the corner. Daryl tries his best to help where he can but he can see the strain on Rick’s face and how he holds himself stiffer than usual, it’s really beginning to wear on him.

Their leader tries to be optimistic, scanning maps, driving them down roadways and hoping for the promised land at the end of it all and finding nothing but more walkers and death instead. It’s soul destroying and slowly it’s taking its toll on all of them and making it harder to just carry on.

Daryl’s never been one for giving up and sometimes it grates on him that these people looked so lost at having a hard time. His whole life had been a tough time, he’d struggled fucking through it and now here he was trying to get other people to learn what he’d been doing his whole life. This wasn’t living, it was surviving and they just had to hang on a little longer through the winter and it would all work out. When the jack rabbits started fucking and the deer started grazing longer and longer he’d have meat for them all, but right now he’d barely seen a fucking pigeon.

Tramping back through the snow he doesn’t want to meet their eyes when he returns to their makeshift camp, the cars in a circle to shield their fire outside of a shed. It’s nothing really, barely even a place for storage, but they’d take what they could when they could. They look up when he returns and there’s those looks again, the ones of disappointment and sadness mixed with sympathy and sad smiles as they tried to reassure him silently that it wasn’t his fault. They’re starving and it’s not long before Lori is crying silently, one hand to her mouth to muffle the sobs and the other pressed to her slowly growing belly.

It hurts to know he’s letting them down, and that there’s a person depending on him who wasn’t even born yet. Tossing down his bow he feels awful, the guilt churning up inside of him when Maggie leans her head on Glenn’s shoulder, feeling tired and weak due to the lack of food and Beth looks to almost be wasting away. Carol moves to comfort Lori, hushing her friend and trying to reassure her that they still had some supplies left to get through. Their rations wouldn’t last long though, not if they didn’t find somewhere to raid soon.

“Daryl, here.” Rick calls, no, demands of him, crooking a finger in his direction and it’s a sign of his new found loyalty and respect for this man that he doesn’t yell about being treated like a mutt. Instead he heads over, ignoring his bow but keeping his knife on hand just in case. There wouldn’t be any issues, not with Rick only leading him a little ways from their camp, behind the cars and away from prying eyes. He wonders if this is going to be a moment for them to plan, or if he was going to be sent out to scout the area for anything worth heading towards. So when Rick stands in front of him with hands on his hips and head tilted in that way he had that showed he meant business, Daryl takes half a step back. “What the hell was all that about?”

Blinking a little in confusion he doesn’t like the look Rick is giving him, there’s a fire in his eyes that he doesn’t like the look of but he really has no clue what he’s meant to have done. “What?”

That doesn’t seem to be the right answer because Rick hisses through his teeth, shaking his head before pointing back towards the group as he explains. “My wife is in fucking tears back there because of you.”

Frowning a little he gives a shrug, not entirely understanding why Rick is so mad at him today, it had been the same for the past few days. He knew the other man was under a lot of stress but there wasn’t much he could do in this situation. “’s cause she’s hungry man, we all are.” He explains, reaching out a hand to try and get Rick to calm down from where he’s standing, looking as if his anger was only growing right now. Daryl knows that look and it’s one he wants to stop before it goes past the point of no return. “The baby’s just making her feel it more than the rest of us.”

“And why’s she fucking hungry hm?” Fuck Rick is getting really worked up now, Daryl has had enough practice with this to hear the subtle raise of his voice and see the way he steps forward to enter Daryl’s personal space. “Bring anything back today?” Rick practically barks at him accusingly, leaving him flinching back a little and watching the other man warily.

“Ain’t nothing out there to bring back.” He shrugs and he can hear that his voice is retreating into that small tone he used to use when he was younger. When Merle would get in his face and he didn’t have the balls to fight back or knew it was safer to back down. But Rick wasn’t Merle, Rick would actually listen to reason and this really wasn’t Daryl’s fault. “Place is dead.”

“Sure, the whole fucking list of Georgian wildlife and you can’t bring back a fucking mouse for us. Sure, sure there’s nothing out there at all.” Rick is seething, shaking his head, pacing back and forth, almost stalking him like an animal and backing him up a few more paces at the tension he can feel in the air. He hates shit like this, when people wouldn’t listen to him and kept getting themselves wound up. It’s like he could see exactly what was going to happen but was powerless to stop it.

Biting on his lower lip he can’t quite meet Rick’s eyes anymore, instead he clenches his fists at his sides and glares at the floor. “I dunno what you want me to say man.” And that’s the worst part, not knowing how to stop this, not being able to read people good enough to make it stop.

“How bout you’re fucking sorry?” And Rick’s yelling, loud and in his face making him flinch a little at the sudden noise and fuck he’s only seen the other man like this after the farm, when he’d been able to stay quiet and under the radar of anger.

“Ain’t my fault Rick, sometimes you just can’t find nothing out there.” He tries to explain, he knows he’s the only one who had ever really hunted before, but shit surely everyone knew you couldn’t always win. Honest to god he was trying his best.

“Ain’t your fault?” Rick spits to the side before stalking closer, a finger in his face and yelling again, loud enough for everyone to hear and know exactly what their leader thought of him. “Of course it ain’t, because nothing is your fault is it? Fuck I leave the farm for two minutes to deal with Shane, leaving you in charge and what happens? Farm’s gone.” Rick laughs but it’s not one of humour, it just sounds hollow and painful. “I let you lead the search for Sophia, she’s gone.” The man lists off on his fingers and that horrible knot in his chest tightens a little bit, making him curl his fingers in the hem of his shirt tightly. “I give you one job, just one, to go hunt for food and you produce nothing for us.”

Daryl feels small. It’s a horrible feeling and one he hasn’t had to suffer through in a while, but right now with Rick pushing into his space, getting in his face and yelling so loud he feels tiny. Swallowing back the catch in his throat he tries one last time to explain, to try and climb out of this hole he’s gotten himself into. “I’m trying…”

“Oh you’re trying?” Rick snaps and doesn’t allow him to continue, apparently the cork has been removed and now he couldn’t stop, making sure to let Daryl know every single little thing that had clearly been building up inside of him. “Well that makes up for us all starving doesn’t it? My pregnant wife is crying she’s so hungry, my son hasn’t eaten more than one can full of crap in three days, what about Hershel’s girls? What about any of them?”

It takes him a while to speak, and when he does he sounds pathetic, small and weak. Right now Rick doesn’t sound like a man of honour, he sounds like his father and fuck he hates how easily that affects him. “I…I don’t know-“

“No you don’t know because this is all fun and fucking games for you isn’t it?” Fuck Rick can be pretty fucking spiteful when he wants to be. “You’re always boasting about how fucking tough you are, the best hunter, how you were used to going hungry before all of this. Is that what this is? You trying to toughen us up or something? Get us all as strong as you or we’re not worthy of being here is that it?”

It’s pathetic, he wants to stand up for himself, he wants to tell Rick he’s wrong and that’s it’s not like that at all, but he remembers trying that as a kid and it never worked. When Merle got like this he learnt how to take it, when his dad got like this he learnt how to take it and as much as he hated it he knew he had to take it now. Rick was stressed, Rick had a lot of pressure on him right now and he needed a punching bag, even if it was only verbally. He must have seen his scars and known he could take it but fuck if it didn’t hurt to have to listen to exactly why the other man despised him so much.

“Survival of the fucking fittest huh? Well I will tell you now that ain’t gonna stand. You ain’t going to take this out on my wife and my son, I’m in charge of the group and your one job is to go hunt. If you can’t fucking do that right then maybe you shouldn’t even fucking be here. Christ I can’t believe Shane convinced me to let you stay with us, I mean after meeting your brother it’s not surprising you’re nothing but a selfish prick.”

He nods, of course he nods because he knows it’s true, everyone always thought the same and Rick was one of the most honest men he’d ever met. Clenching his fingers in his shirt he flinches when Rick steps closer, close enough that Daryl can feel his breath on his cheek and the anger in every word. Hunching his shoulders a little he tries to make himself small, used to preparing himself for fists and a part of him isn’t surprised this is happening. It always happens eventually, he fucks up and then anger starts, people see him for what he really was and made sure he knew it too.

“You’re so used to looking after yourself you can’t fucking provide for the group can you? So long as Daryl is all right then who cares if everyone else is starving right? I am trying my best here to keep this group together and alive and having you act like this is not helping Daryl.”

The guilt creeps up on him, sitting heavy in his stomach and making him feel ill. He fucking hates himself right now but he hates that he’s disappointed Rick even more. Just when he thought he was starting to be a part of the group he begins to see how things really are; that he’ll never fit in with any of them. They needed him only for hunting and he couldn’t even do that right.

“Fuck I thought I could trust you man, I had to kill my best friend for these people and I put my trust in you that you could fill that space, that you could help me lead this group and that you’d do what you could to help out. Now here we are, starving, freezing and they’re looking to me as if I can fix this. So here’s me trying to fix it, trying to get you to fucking man up and do what I tell you to for the good of the group and not just yourself.”

He’d always thought he was good at doing as he was told, from his father he learnt not listening had consequences, from his teachers he learnt not listening meant you were stupid and from Merle he’d learnt not listening got to left behind. Now here he was, being told to learn all those lessons over again since he’d not done it right the first time. He was fucking useless and now they all knew it and Rick was sick of having to deal with his mistakes. It’s not like he hasn’t heard it all before from plenty of others, but it doesn’t matter how many times it’s all spat at him, it hurts the same every time, making him bite at his lip and try to listen properly.

“Fucks sake man, maybe if you had a family you’d understand.” Rick spits at him, still close, still so angry with him and desperate for Daryl to understand. The mention of family is the final push it takes for Daryl to feel exactly as he had all the other times, making him hunch over a little more, clench his fists until his nails are digging into his palms and no one can see the tears blurring his vision. Merle hadn’t wanted him either, the asshole had never turned up after freeing himself from Atlanta.

Honestly he didn’t know it was his fault, he was trying his best but clearly it just wasn’t good enough for them all. He was expected to do better but wasn’t meeting the standards expected, just like in every other aspect of his life he was falling beneath average. Daryl knows he should apologise, that what everyone else always wanted when they made him like this, but he can’t find his voice, it feels lost in his throat right now and he doesn’t want to stutter like when he was a kid. People always got madder when he did.

Instead he nods in agreement of it all, letting Rick know he’d heard him and knew what had to be done. There were no other answers for them now, they had barely any food, he wasn’t providing and it would make things easier without another mouth to feed. It’s not like he was wanted here anyway.

Rick takes a half a step forward and Daryl doesn’t know exactly where he’s going to hit him but he flinches anyway, backing up until he can get away from the other man, stalking over to Merle’s bike and grabbing up his bow from the edges of the group. They watch as he goes past, probably all wanting to break into a round of applause when he begins checking everything’s tied onto the bike right for him to head off. It’s difficult with shaking fingers and everything being blurred from the unshed tears, be he manages and it’s not until he’s busy wheeling the bike away that he hears the footsteps following him.

“Daryl, wait!”

And dammit despite really not wanting to face the man again right now, he does as he’s told and stops when Rick calls. Sitting on the bike he grips the handles tighter, setting a foot on the floor to prop himself upright and glaring at the metal of the handlebar so he wouldn’t have to see the hatred in his eyes. Rick was probably only calling for him to stop to yell at him more, to make sure he knew not to give their position away to anyone else he met on the way. As if any other group would take him in.

“Daryl I’m sorry.”

Sorry this didn’t work. Sorry you’re so shit at the things you’re supposed to be good at. Sorry you’re so bad at people you can’t figure out how to work in a group. Sorry you’ll never be anything but a fucking useless sack of shit.

“I’m sorry I snapped like that, especially at you.”

A hand falls on his shoulder and he flinches hard, jerking away from it and watching Rick warily, surprised to see the sincerity on his face and worry in his eyes.

“I’ve just been so worked up lately over everything, I don’t know what I’m doing as leader and I’m so scared for us all. Having to go hungry for another day just pushed me over the edge, and I crossed the line yelling at you like that. I know you do a lot for us all Daryl, heck without you we’d probably all be dead by now. I shouldn’t have snapped at you, you didn’t deserve it.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that. A part of him clings to the hope that this apology is real and it makes him want to cling to it with both hands. But some of him worries it’s all a big joke to make him leaving even more humiliating.

“Daryl I’m sorry. Don’t leave, I need you here.”

That’s all it takes and he knows it’s not a joke, it’s a real apology and possibly the first one he’s ever gotten in his life. It’s strange to be forgiven and he still feels hollow and worried over everything Rick’s said to him, old fears creeping up and clinging on tightly to his anxieties. But then Rick’s hand falls to his shoulder, slower this time and he doesn’t flinch, but accepts it and the small squeeze the other man gives to it.

He feels like an idiot, but figures Rick had really been on edge and knew he could take the anger he had bottled up inside of him. Really it wasn’t anything new, he’d been used as a verbal punching bag for years, the one people used to vent their frustrations with the world out on to make themselves feel better; he just hadn’t known that was Rick needed. Before it had only been family members that knew he could take it, but Rick must have seen and knew he could and it had been so long that he’d forgotten how it all started.

Shrugging off the hand on his shoulder he grunts a little, glad he never let any tears fall and avoided looking like a complete pussy. If Rick needed someone to yell at every so often then he could do that, he’d just have to remember that it wasn’t about him, but more about Rick. “Quit your panicking.” He squints up to the man, putting it all behind him when he sees the relief in Rick’s eyes at his unspoken acceptance of the apology. “Was just going to scout out further, see if there was anything worth killing further afield.”

It’s a lie of course, but it’s one worth saying and one worth turning into the truth, especially when Rick gives a large sigh and pats his shoulders again with a small grin, one with mirth behind it as if he couldn’t believe he’d been thinking such a thing. Daryl knew he wouldn’t really be able to leave after all, he may be shit at people, but he was even worse on his own.


End file.
